


Radiant Reflection

by Rosage



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Mid-Timeskip, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27765943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: Constance’s latest attempt to impress Edelgard spins out of her control.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Constance von Nuvelle
Kudos: 20





	Radiant Reflection

Constance tilts her hand mirror while she pats her ringlets. The shade of purple isn’t off, is it? Today of all days, she requires complete control over her dyeing spell. It must be the mirror—an ugly little thing, its chipped frame the wrong color for her. After she restores House Nuvelle, she shall select the perfect mirror for the drawing room. Maybe she can enchant it to suit the appearance of whoever beholds it, so her guests might share in her radiance.

Before that, she must feature the most important subject. She all but skips to Edelgard’s office, ordering her way past the palace guards along her path, thanks to her leverage as a general. It frees her mind for anticipation. Perhaps Edelgard will request matching purple undertones; her lavender eyes are the perfect complement to Constance’s lilac, and almost as beautiful.

Her final obstacle stands in all his oily height. “Her Majesty is not to be disturbed,” Hubert says.

“It is crucial that I see her.”

“I can pass along a message.”

A message? To contain the glory of her invention?

“It’s all right, Hubert,” Edelgard calls from inside. He bows and lets Constance through without protest.

She plants herself in front of Edelgard, who sits behind her desk, her nose in a document. Constance’s heart flaps its wings at the sight of her. No, that must be from the rush down the long corridors, or her imminent success, or…

“Is this important?” Edelgard asks. “I’m rather—”  
  
“Would I ever bring something not of the utmost relevance to your door, Your Majesty?” Constance asks with a curtsy.

Edelgard does not rush to affirm this, but she sets down her document and folds her hands. “What can I do for you, then?”

“The question, my dear Emperor, is what can I do for _you_?”

“I get the feeling you are about to tell me.”

“Ah, why mince words when I can give you a demonstration?”

If Constance is jittery, it does not prevent her practiced hand from drawing the sigil. First the base for all transmutation spells, then her carefully balanced design. As she draws the action symbol, she envisions the blond of her hair turning the shade of Edelgard’s eyes. A glow surrounds her. A whiff of soap hangs in the air as the spell completes.

“Ta-da! And it barely drains any magic.”

Edelgard’s expression doesn’t change. “Constance, when I asked if this was important, I meant to the war. As in, the one we’ve been waging for moons now?”

“Of, of course. Do I not think of everything?” Constance wields the mirror like a fan, shielding part of her face. It isn’t pitiful to prefer a little mystique. For Edelgard’s part, she looks as pale as if she’d spent those moons in Abyss, not out on the march. Most wouldn’t notice her ghostly pallor, considering her bold speeches, her aggression on the field, and her presence even in the dining hall.

No, Constance is just exceptionally observant.

“For one thing, this spell has endless applications for boosting morale,” she says. “Is that not critical in war? Especially when so many joined our side due to the Professor.”

Edelgard flinches. The sight makes Constance waver. But she did not join for the Professor, as much as she would like to see them safe and assisting her research. She joined for Edelgard, for the passion that burns brightly, even as her past resembles the depths of Abyss—and for her ability to restore Constance’s house, of course.

“They’ll soon see that you are all we need,” Constance says, waving her mirror. “Just imagine! Black hair to represent the Black Eagles. No—an emblem of an eagle, emblazoned on your crimson tresses! Your whole strike force could have a similar appearance.”

“I can scarcely imagine such a thing,” Edelgard says, but her lips curl up. “Do you suppose my eagles will be expected to take flight?”

“If you give me enough time, they can.” Like a mouse that has sniffed a crumb, Constance dives on Edelgard’s lightened spirits. “In addition, you are extremely busy pursuing your ambitions. My ability to change your hair color in a snap should save you plenty of time.”

“How so?”

“Why, you won’t have to dye it anymore.”

“I don’t dye my—oh.” That crumb Constance chased disappears. “Are you referring to my past hair color?”

“Obviously. You are usually much quicker on the uptake. I must say, though white is an unconventional choice for a lady of your youth, it is far more attention-grabbing than that mousy brown.”

Constance only saw it from a distance; House Nuvelle never merited a proper introduction to every child of House Hresvelg, and then it was too late for both. But once, an Imperial princess paraded before her with a raised chin and brown locks.

It _may_ have interested Constance to see a princess her age. Enough so that she badgered her family to let them be friends, to no avail. She imagined that in the moment their purple eyes locked, a silent bond developed, leading to similar discussions at the palace.

“I don’t know how you found out, but you are mistaken,” Edelgard says. “My hair simply changed one day. It’s…” Despite the closed room, she looks around before leaning in and lowering her voice. “Related to the matters I discussed with you at the war’s start. Dull as you may find my old color, I would have preferred to keep it.”

Oh. _Oh_.

Any approval this gambit might have earned dashes like a wave against a cliff. Yet, she finds herself flailing in the surf, trying to tumble onward.

“Then do I have good news for you!” she says, her voice pitched high. “We can return your hair to that exact color. You would look rather fetching. Why, you might regain some of your old self.”

“No, Constance. There’s no going back. You know that.” Edelgard doesn’t pinch the bridge of her nose, as she sometimes does when Constance tips too far. She only looks weary, the lines of her face wrinkling as if to suit her white hair.

“I… I do. My apologies for digging up such memories. It seems I’ve erred in my assessment.”

“You wouldn’t have known. It’s rare that I share such things with others.”

“Do not fret, Lady Edelgard. You know I, at least, am ever your trustworthy confidant.”

Those pale eyes widen before a smile appears on Edelgard’s face, soft and true. “Of course. I will be counting on you.”

Having given up on the crumb, the mouse finds itself crushed under a chunk of cheese.


End file.
